


I'm Not Hurt

by Lovefushsia



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cranks, Cuddles, Feels, First Times, Fits after Chapter 22 of TDC, Fix It Fic, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt Newt, Kissing, M/M, Missing Scene, Newt Lives, Newt's in control, On Jorge’s Berg, POV Newt (chapter 2), POV Thomas (chapter 1), Potential Book Spoilers, Rutting, Sexy Times, Smutty words, The Death Cure, The Death Cure Book, Zombie ambush, after the wall punch, forgiving Thomas, he gets a bit worse first though, inner turmoil, leaves them in a good hopeful place, mature rating for chapter 3, nervous Thomas, rating change for ch 10, they have to find the right arm, top!newt, why am I doing this to myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-15 01:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13602711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovefushsia/pseuds/Lovefushsia
Summary: Just after Newt's frustrated wall punch on the Berg - Thomas goes to him to make sure he’s ok.___Thomas looked up and met Newt’s dampened, reddened eyes - so much hurt and sadness in them. Thomas had to look away, let his own eyes close, trying to stop his tears as he squeezed them shut.He still had hold of Newt’s hand.“Tommy,” Newt whispered.—-UPDATE: OMG chapter 34 wtf!! I KNEW I SHOULD BE WORRIEDUPDATE: *Facepalms* Why doesn’t this book come with a warning. Chapter 55 you hurt me.*sigh* I spent a fair bit of time crying all over the place just thinking about these two after reading The Death Cure, so I’ve tried for some angst here but basically I just needed happy Newtmas!!





	1. Chapter 1

“Just give me a few minutes?” Thomas said to the others. Minho looked uncertain but nodded and Thomas turned back to Newt as they were left alone.

He put a gentle hand on Newt’s shoulder, not knowing if touching of any sort was going to make things worse but feeling the need to show him something, some physical support.

“Hey.” His voice was quieter than he’d intended but maybe that was ok. Newt didn’t shrug him off, just stood there, shoulders tensed under Thomas’s fingers. He sniffed a little but didn’t respond. “Are you hurt? Let’s take a look,” Thomas pushed on, hoping Newt would let him help.

After a moment where Thomas wondered if Newt would simply refuse to turn around and Thomas would have to try another tack, he finally turned, Thomas’s hand dropping as Newt moved.

“I’m not hurt, Tommy,” Newt whispered, but he held up his hand and Thomas took it gently in his, a huff escaping as he saw the bloodied knuckles and felt the tremors in Newt’s hand. 

Newt used his other hand to wipe at his eyes as Thomas looked around for something to clean up the blood.

“You know, there’s still a chance of a cure, there’s got to be-” Thomas started, but Newt cut him off.

“There’s no shucking cure, Tommy. Not for me. I can already feel it, in here,” he tapped at his forehead. “It’s started and sometimes I can’t even see straight, let alone think straight.” 

Thomas looked up and met Newt’s dampened, reddened eyes - so much hurt and sadness in them. Thomas had to look away, let his own eyes close, trying to stop his tears as he squeezed them shut.

He still had hold of Newt’s hand. 

“Tommy,” Newt whispered. Thomas felt goosebumps raise all over his skin at the soft sound of his name. He wanted to embrace that sound, the familiarity of the nickname Newt had given him - his friend. In all this hell they were still together, they’d made it this far. Thomas wanted to cry out at the unfairness of this whole shucking mess that they called their lives. He wanted to keep Newt from the Flare - wanted to save him so badly it hurt like a physical blow each time he thought of it.

“Tommy, it’s ok,” Newt said again and his hand was on Thomas’s shoulder, squeezing hard as Thomas realised tears were streaming down his face.

“It’s not ok, it’s not - I’m not the one meant to be falling apart - I’m sorry,” he scrubbed at his face, sniffing as Newt’s grip loosened. Newt had taken both hands away and Thomas looked back up at him and realised just how much that contact meant to him, contact with someone who cared about him, someone who Thomas cared enough about to be shedding tears over. Here in this place where there were only vague shreds of hope to cling to and nothing was ever peaceful for more than a few minutes.

He took a shaky breath, and Newt, so close, just seemed to be watching him. 

“What do you remember, Newt?” Thomas asked suddenly. “About before, friends and… and feelings?”

Newt frowned at the question. “Nothing,” he finally said with a slight shake of his head. “I don’t remember family, friends, not until Alby. Not until Chuck. Not until you.”

The familiar pain at the mention of Chuck hit Thomas in the chest, but alongside it there was another feeling, a softness, a fluttering - was it possible that in all this hell, Thomas could feel something real that might help him get through this? And if that feeling was mutual, what would that mean for them both - for him and Newt?

He found himself licking his lips, breathing in short heavy bursts as Newt’s hand crept back to rest against his arm. Thomas looked at it, looked back into Newt’s face, trying to see behind those eyes to what his friend might be thinking in amongst the turmoil. 

“Tommy,” Newt whispered again and their faces were suddenly so close, noses almost brushing as they stood together in this quiet corner of the Berg, alone - a moment of peace. 

Thomas couldn’t move, couldn’t close the space between them, he didn’t even know how to breathe anymore but he was staring at Newt’s lips. 

He swallowed, managed just one more breath and then Newt’s lips were pressed to the corner of his mouth. Such a soft, tentative touch that Thomas barely felt it. But his heart pounding against his ribs, his caught breath and the sweat beading on his forehead and making his palms damp, it all added up to the fact that Newt had kissed him. 

Thomas looked at him, tried to draw in air so that he didn’t get lightheaded, and he felt an overwhelming rush of need as he kissed Newt back, full on the lips. Newt gasped and Thomas stepped back, “Shuck it, I- I’m sorry…” he stuttered, but Newt frowned and gripped his arm, tugging him back and kissed him again, firmer this time and Thomas felt Newt’s other hand grasp his shirtfront, holding him close. 

He closed his eyes, reached up to put a hand to Newt’s cheek, pushing against him as his fingers brushed and threaded into Newt’s hair, getting a hold.

Their breaths came hard through their noses as they each refused to separate from the kiss - lips parting, Thomas licked at Newt’s lower lip, not really knowing what he was doing but wanting it so badly. Newt opened to him, his tongue caressing Thomas’s, head tilted slightly as he deepened the kiss, holding fast to Thomas.

Thomas’s head was spinning, images flashing through, Newt’s face smiling down at him when the Box had first opened, his warmth and immediate offer of friendship that first night, and every night since. Thomas was so lucky to have him in his life, he couldn’t let go. 

He kept kissing him, pressing Newt into the wall, Newt’s hand flattened between their bodies, the other wrapped around his waist, holding him there, keeping him close. Thomas gripped his hair with one hand, the other on his shoulder, pulling himself onto his toes to reach Newt better. 

With a groan of mixed pleasure and frustration Thomas drew back, still not able to catch his breath, and both of them stood staring at the other, panting.

Thomas’s innate sense of doom was sharp as he wondered what the hell they had just done, but the feeling subsided just a little when Newt’s mouth turned up at one corner as he clearly tried to suppress a grin. Thomas’s eyes widened and he couldn’t stop his own smile as he watched Newt slide down the wall in an exhausted heap.

Thomas’s own legs felt heavy and he moved to sit down beside Newt. They sat with knees raised, elbows resting on them, as they had so often done together. Never after such a monumental experience though had they sat side by side. He glanced sidelong at his friend, Newt’s head was resting back against the wall and he was smiling widely. 

Newt rolled his head towards Thomas. “Well, shuck it Tommy, who knew?”

Thomas let out a tired chuckle as he nodded. “You- you’re really good at that,” he managed.

“Not so bad yourself,” Newt told him, nudging their shoulders together. 

“I kind of feel like I might have taken advantage of you though,” Thomas said, as the last few minutes caught up to him. 

Newt just shook his head. “Are you kidding? I’ve been wanting to do that since the start.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Since the maze?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Newt said simply.

Thomas couldn’t say the same, but only because he had been in so much turmoil since he’d first met Newt that thoughts of anything more than survival had been limited. He knew though, if things had been different, he would have wanted Newt just as badly as he did right now, and that feeling of friendship, of protectiveness he had whenever he thought of Newt, that would have developed into something stronger a lot sooner. 

Now, they sat staring at each other, and Thomas had to hold back from pulling Newt into another kiss. Newt apparently didn’t have the same levels of self-control and he leaned in and kissed Thomas again, an arm slipping around his shoulders.

“Thomas, are you coming?” The shout was an almost physical divide as Thomas and Newt jumped apart, wide-eyed.

Thomas croaked out an “On my way,” just as Minho came into view and stood impatiently with one hand on his hip.

“Come on, you two can continue the love fest later,” he said. And Thomas looked back at Newt and nearly laughed at his expression. Whether Minho had caught them or not, it didn’t matter now. They had to get these things out of their heads and then Thomas and Newt could continue this - whatever it was that had just happened between them.

Newt gestured with a nod of his head that Thomas should go. 

“I - I’ll be back soon,” Thomas told him, unsure how to say goodbye, and certain of one thing - he wouldn’t rest easy until he was right back here with Newt.

“Good that, I’ll have dinner on the table,” Newt said, and Thomas gave a lopsided smile. He pushed away from the wall and stood up, and as Minho turned to go, calling them both shuck-faces under his breath, Thomas slid a hand into Newt’s hair, letting his fingers linger, before he turned to follow the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you all so much for the kudos, this is my first Maze Runner fic and I’m always really nervous about coming into a new fandom - this feels good :) x
> 
> Oh also, Newt is still by himself back on the Berg for me, I haven’t read as far as them being reunited yet. I should be worried shouldn’t I...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So firstly, I’ve now finished reading The Death Cure and I’ll never be over it. I’ve not seen the film yet… I’m so scared. 
> 
> I also can’t believe what I did to Thomas and Newt in my first fic here, without knowing what was about to actually happen to them ten chapters later. I really shouldn’t have been surprised, but still. I was. And then my heart was torn out with chapter 55. 
> 
> So I made myself a fix it fic. 
> 
> I’ve mixed a little detail from The Scorch Trials film into this towards the end. I hope you enjoy :D

Newt stayed where he was long after Thomas's gentle fingers had left his hair. He tried to focus on what they'd had, on the feel of those lips, of strong arms around him, forcing those other feelings away - he could do it, keep it at bay, he knew he could - with Tommy there.

He needed him there.

Newt squeezed his eyes shut, knocked his head back against the wall - focus. Thomas. The only bright spot in his memories. The only person to have made any of those remaining days in the Glade worth living. Because he had given Newt hope, the chance of freedom. And now this - he needed this. He wanted Tommy so badly he had to choke back a cry, press a hand to his chest at the thought that it had been so fleeting, Tommy was gone and Newt couldn't follow, didn't know when his friends would return. He sat up, head going forward, trying to stave off the rising panic. Get up Newt - do something, take your mind off it, man.

But everything was just a reminder that even if they came back and had their chips out, made it through whatever that procedure was, if they were ok after it, made it back here, it still meant nothing - not for Newt. He wasn't ok. He was never going to be ok.

He cried out into the gaping space of the Berg, letting his frustrations out while he was alone, he didn't want to lose it again like he did earlier in front of his friends. Not until he had no choice. He thought again of his note, the one Tommy had shoved into his pocket. He wondered when Tommy would open it, what he would think, especially after today.

Newt had never thought that he would have the chance to be that close to Tommy, to touch him in the way they had earlier. He shivered as he remembered again the touch of their lips together. He had never felt anything like it - he had been transported out of his body for those moments alone with Tommy. He wanted it again, wanted more. But how could they with this shucking disease working its way through his head?

His eyes began to water and he felt it rising up again - the harsh mixture of reality and what his mind was sinking into as the Flare took hold. Sometimes he could see both sides at once, as if he could separate his brain into two parts - he could see clearly what was right in front of him, even though in the background, all around him, the world was murky, jittery, scratchy. If he could focus on the reality, on his sense memories, maybe he could fight it?

And the best of those memories, the very best of them were those last few minutes with Thomas.

He spun around, thinking maybe he was there.

Nothing. Just the empty Berg. It was dark, in here and outside the front window, he couldn't see the airport out there now. He should probably find the lights, it was getting cold too - the heater would be a good idea. But then there was a light, a torch beam outside, illuminating the feet and the area in front of a group of walking people. Newt's heart leapt - was it Tommy? Even as he thought it though he knew he hadn't been alone long enough for them to be back yet.

Newt went into a crouch, he could still see the beam of light as it went up, hit the ceiling above him. Palms sweating, his eyes flitted around the Berg - he needed to hide. He searched behind him, still crouching as he made his way to the back of the compartment. He knew there were storage areas, places both above and below deck which he had seen Jorge use to stow things. He slid across, being careful not to rise up into the path of the torch still flashing across the walls and ceiling. Were they looking for him? Looking for him specifically or did they just routinely check out all the Bergs? No matter, Newt just couldn't let himself be seen, not by anyone. He had made Tommy a promise, and although he'd asked Tommy to make him a bigger one in his letter, he wasn't ready for any of that to play out yet.

He pulled open a door set into the floor, quickly measured up and realised neither the door, nor the space inside was big enough to fit a person. That suited him fine, they wouldn't search in such a small space, would they?

An alarm sounded as Newt scooted into the cramped space, tucked his knees up and pulled the door behind him, bringing his fingers in just fast enough to not catch them when it closed. He could still hear well enough as the ramp descended and feet clomped up into the Berg.

His world was reduced to sounds: the thumping of his heartbeat and his own harsh breaths. He put his hand over his nose and tried to regulate small breaths through his mouth. He could hear the mechanised voices of the guards out there, but the words were muffled, he couldn't make out whether they were looking for him or just inspecting. What right did they have to come on board? And how did they get on so easily?

The footsteps came closer to Newt's hiding place and he held his breath.

His whole body jerked, his head thumping the low ceiling above him as something knocked loudly against the metal door. He thought he had managed to suppress a gasp, he hoped so. More crashes, moving along as if someone out there was kicking the metal at floor level all along the compartment.

Newt's heart was threatening to explode in his chest, but he couldn't stop it racing, coursing the fear and adrenaline through his body. His knees, pulled up as they were, were constricting what breaths he could manage, he needed to get out of there, but he knew he couldn't move. Not yet.

He squeezed his eyes closed, forced himself to relax, to go back again to the rush of warmth and comfort Thomas had given him during their kiss. He only wished they'd done it sooner. But he'd never really known how Thomas would react if he'd mentioned it. Newt couldn't have asked for a better reaction though, Tommy was everything he wanted. Everything he wanted for a future that he couldn't have.

His eyes flew open at the scratch of metal on metal and light spilled into his hiding place. Oh. Not such a good hiding place after all. Bloody Berg. Bloody guards.

Rough hands pulled him out, didn't take more than two seconds to scan him and give him the lowdown that he wasn't immune, that he wasn't welcome here, that they were taking him with them.

"What? Where to?" Newt said, pulling against the arms holding him. He was lithe, he was fast, but he couldn't get out of the iron grip of three guards with Launchers.

He struggled, wanted to fight, wanted to rail against them and tell them to piss off. But inside he knew - there was no point. As one of the guards, the one who had scanned him, talked on and on about what was going to happen to him - had he seen the Cranks? Did he want his friends to see him like that? It wouldn't take long, did he want to risk hurting them? _No. No never_ \- he didn't want to hurt them. Not Minho, not Brenda or Jorge. Not his Thomas.

"No," he said in a broken whisper, giving up as he looked down at the floor. "No. But let me say goodbye, ok?"

"You've got five minutes."

They let Newt go, he went to the cockpit, found a pad and pen, sat down in the pilot seat and put his head in his hands. What the hell could he write? After what he and Thomas had done, after what Minho had done for him through the years. He had to write a final farewell to them, alone on this piece-of-klunk Berg in the middle of the night?

A guard came up behind him and started tapping his boot on the floor. Newt turned around, frowning. They were meant to be giving him time. "Need to hurry it up," he told Newt gruffly.

"Slim it, slinthead, I'm getting to it."

Finally, Newt managed to scrawl a few words. As heavy as his heart was, he knew he was being given no choice in the matter and he didn't have the energy to resist. He also knew that whatever these guards said to him, it was the truth. He wasn't immune, he was a liability - a Crank, however much he hated the thought. They'd all seen what would happen, and it would happen to Newt sooner or later and he needed to be anywhere but with his friends when he passed into the Gone - he knew it, and the klunkheads hanging over his shoulder knew it.

He huffed out a frustrated desperate breath and pushed up from the seat. "Let's get it over with then," he said quietly.

The closest guard took hold of Newt's arm and walked him to the ramp. As soon as they reached the top a loud ping on the metal by their heads made Newt duck. The guard threw Newt to one side as he went into a crouch and took cover, all of them trying to see where the shot was fired from - currently there was nothing to fire back at. Then more shots began pelting the sides of the Berg, pinging around Newt's ears as he stayed close to the wall. The guards started firing back and Newt realised they must be able to see more than he could.

He heard shouting out there but he couldn't make out anything. Suddenly, there it was, a clear call of his name - "Newt, are you up there?" It was Minho, he was sure of it. Knowing his friends were outside, he had a change of heart. He could fight these guys. Without thinking it through any further he shoved the guard in front of him, shoved him hard so that he toppled and went rolling before he could stop himself. Newt gave him a kick for good measure while he grabbed up the Launcher the guard had dropped.

He ran back inside, up the ramp, backwards, the second guard went down as the first turned, pushed up in a rage and followed Newt.

"Get back, get back!" Newt cried. It took only one step from the guard towards him that made Newt shoot him. He couldn't quite believe that he could be so ruthless, so quickly. It was the thought that his friends were in trouble. Thomas was out there, fighting for their lives _again_ \- when would it end? He fired again, aiming low at the back of the other guard, and he watched somewhat gleefully as they both went down, writhed around on the ramp in silent agony.

"Newt!" he heard again.

"Thomas," he called out, probably unnecessarily, they must know he was up here. The firing came to a sudden stop. There were cries and groans from the guards and as Newt watched, four people came into view, guns raised and feet kicking at the fallen guards, rolling the remaining one down the ramp. Jorge shouted at them all to get on board and the ramp was raising as Newt's friends rushed up.

Newt put out his hand, helping his friends as the door closed and Jorge had already booted up the Berg, getting them ready to take off. "Time to go," he called and Newt couldn't agree more.

The others crowded round him, apologies flying as they patted at him, made sure he was ok. He assured them he was, he was fine. "About time you shanks made it back here though, what took you so long?"

Minho slapped him on the back and went inside. "Ran into a bit of trouble,” he called behind him. “Nothing we couldn't handle."

Brenda hugged him and apologised again before heading to join Jorge.

"Newt," Thomas was beside him, eyes huge and full of concern. "What the hell did they want?" he asked, a hand on Newt's shoulder.

Newt shook his head. "Shipping me off with the other Cranks, weren't they?"

"What?" Thomas looked outraged and Newt gave a half smile.

"'S okay, I had it under control. Would have been all over them if you guys hadn't shown up."

Thomas didn't smile though, he looked at his feet, clearly distracted.

"Did you get those things out of your heads?" Newt asked, trying to get the focus off him. Now they were up in the sky, away from those guards, he just wanted to forget about the whole thing, at least for as long as he could.

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, yeah, all sorted. Not too bad in the end. I'm just sorry it took so long. I wanted to get back here - you're all I could think about."

"Likewise," Newt said softly.

"Newt," Thomas whispered, coming impossibly closer. "I read your note."

"Oh, right, yeah," Newt said, voice cracking.

"I can't - I… could never-" Thomas dropped his eyes and ran his free hand over his face. "We have to get to the Right Arm - they have some kind of enzyme shot, they're working on a cure - it's gonna be ok," he said in a rush, meeting his eyes again.

Thomas didn't look relieved, or even totally convinced at his own words, but Newt grabbed hold of the glimpse of hope just as he always had with Thomas, and he felt instantly lighter. "Is that why you raced back here? To let me know the future looks a little brighter?"

"Yeah," Thomas said, and he took Newt's hand in his, linking their fingers together and Newt just stared at him. "But mainly because we had something going on here, and I couldn't wait to get back to you."

Newt felt a wide grin forming and he couldn't believe how those words made him feel, the weight of the last few days, certainly the last few hours, was lifted by Thomas's words - he wanted to be here with Newt. Their friendship had made his life worth living since Thomas had first arrived in the Glade. But, knowing they both wanted more from each other - that was something else.

"I- I guess you're hungry?" Newt asked, hoping the answer was no.

Thomas slowly shook his head and Newt swallowed hard. He gestured with a nod to the back of the Berg where there were places they could be alone.

Thomas nodded and tugged on Newt's hand. But before they could move, Jorge's voice came from the cockpit. He was holding up a scrap of paper. "I, er… think you left something up here, _hermano_."

"Oh, yeah, thanks," Newt said, and he let his hand slip out of Thomas's as he went to retrieve the paper.

Jorge lowered his voice when Newt was close: "Tell your friend about this, _muchacho_ , he needs to know what they have in store for you."

Newt met his eyes with difficulty. But he nodded once and shoved the paper into his pocket before turning back to Thomas.

 

They found an empty compartment, a couch against one wall and a small desk against the other, Newt went in first and Thomas closed the door and leaned against it.

"What did Jorge give to you?" Thomas asked as Newt paced the small room.

He stopped for a moment and gave Thomas a pleading look. "I don't wanna talk about it right now, ok? It's been a bloody horrible day and I just…"

Thomas came towards him, arms going around him and in an instant Newt felt better. Protected. Wanted. Thomas held onto him and Newt sagged into his embrace, "Tommy," he whispered, "I'm so tired."

Thomas led them to the couch and gently shoved Newt onto it. Soft leather enveloped him as he sat and Thomas flopped down beside him. The idea of a chair, a sofa, still seemed rather odd to Newt. He had spent far too long in the Glade without such comforts. Thomas slid his arm around Newt's shoulders and Newt settled into him.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he said after a few moments silence. "When they hauled me out, I thought that was it."

Thomas tightened his hold. "Whenever we've separated the worst things have happened. We're not splitting up again, ok? Where you go, I go. We stay together."

"No argument from me," Newt told him.

Thomas leaned in so their heads were touching and Newt closed his eyes, content.

"That was some good shooting back there. You get full control of the Launchers from now on."

Newt let out a slight chuckle but before he knew it the melancholy was taking hold again. "I gave up, Tommy, I was gonna let them take me. I barely put up a fight."

"Hey, it's ok, it's ok," Thomas told him, kissing the side of his head, holding him close.

Newt moved a little so he could turn and meet Thomas's worried brown eyes. "The only thing keeping me sane… is you."

Thomas was frowning as he whispered, "You've got me. Until we get that cure - I'm right here, ok?" The sincerity on his face made Newt smile, really smile for the first time since their kiss.

"Show me?" he whispered. "Please, Tommy, show me what we can have."

Thomas was nodding, brought his hand up to caress the side of Newt's face. Newt leaned into it, eyes flickering closed, trying to control his breathing as the intimacy of their situation hit him.

Thomas kissed him then, lips soft and gentle on his, sighing as he did it, stroking Newt's cheek with his thumb as his fingers brushed through his hair, tickling his ear.

Newt drew in a sharp, shaky breath, reached out to hold onto Thomas wherever he could and as he had the first time, he grabbed a handful of shirt, pulling Thomas towards him, deepening the kiss, slotting their mouths together perfectly. Thomas made a muffled groan, sliding one hand carefully around Newt's waist, as if he still wasn't sure how much to touch.

They were alone, together, no distractions, Newt could keep his head in check, because he had Thomas to ground him. He could do this, he would fight it until they got the cure. "Tommy," he gasped against his lips, pulling Thomas closer, pulling him down onto the couch, arms wrapping around each other, and Thomas kissed him again.

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's short, it's dirty, these boys just needed some alone time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to say: In my head these guys are as old as the actors, not quite so young as in the books.

Thomas’s heart was racing, he could hear the rush of it, and his hands quivered where he touched his friend. 

He was still coming down from the adrenaline high of getting back to the Berg and finding Newt in trouble - his worst fear while they’d been in the city was that Newt was deteriorating and they needed to get this cure right now. He hadn’t seriously considered the fact that he was alone and something might happen to him. And Newt could look after himself, Thomas knew that - but he had almost let himself be taken and that was more than a little worrying. It surely meant that his brain was telling him to give up.

He hoped Jorge had them on the quickest path to the Right Arm’s headquarters so they could get this enzyme stuff that Thomas didn’t fully understand but which was their best hope.

He was staring, just running his hands over Newt’s chest and arms and he realised that Newt was watching him. 

“Tommy? You ok?” he asked.

“Sorry, my mind’s working overtime. I’m here, I promise.”

“It’s ok, y’know, if this isn’t what you want now.”

“No, no - it is,” Thomas said quickly. “Newt, this is what I want, more than anything. I was just - just can’t stop thinking what would have happened if we hadn’t got back here. I kind of don’t ever want to let you go… is that weird?”

“Is it weird that I don’t want you to let me go?” Newt asked, brushing a hand down Thomas’s arm.

Thomas shook his head.

“Then, I think we’re ok,” Newt told him.

“Yeah, yeah, ok,” Thomas said, and he pressed his forehead against his friend’s, relief flooding him as he closed his eyes, just the two of them holding onto each other. 

“Tommy?” Newt whispered finally.

“Hmm?” 

“I want to kiss you again.”

Thomas pushed up so he could look into Newt’s smiling face. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Good that,” he murmured.

Newt reached up and both hands went to Thomas’s cheeks, just gently holding on as he kissed Thomas full on the lips.

Thomas still couldn’t get over what their lips pressing together did to him - he couldn’t remember kissing, didn’t know if he’d kissed anyone before the Maze, how would he have had time for it working for WICKED? He didn’t care. He didn’t want any memories of kissing anyone but this, right here. 

Their lips parted at the same moment and Thomas felt Newt’s tongue against his - he moved in, deepening the kiss, shifting his weight so he was straddling Newt’s thigh and his suddenly aroused cock pressed against the firm muscle.

Newt groaned into his mouth, pressing his thigh up against Thomas.

“Newt,” Thomas gasped. “Have you done any of this before?”

“Only with myself,” Newt whispered against his lips with a grin. “Have you?”

“No, nothing, not that I remember,” he admitted. He wondered how long he would have gone without actually, if it hadn’t been for Newt.

But he was so glad he had, because every shucking thing about this was so good he felt like he was going to burst out of his pants.

Newt brushed his fingers over Thomas’s cheek and Thomas kissed him again, biting down on Newt’s lower lip while Newt rubbed at him again with his thigh.

Thomas had to come up for air, literally gasping against Newt’s mouth as he pulled away. “Oh, man, I haven’t thought this through…” he said, but he was smiling.

Newt just looked at him, grin firmly in place as he watched Thomas struggle. “Am I too much for you, Tommy?” he whispered. “You want to take a break?”

Thomas took a deep breath and shook his head. “No, do you?” 

“No. Show me what you’ve got Tommy, come on.”

Thomas was nearly there just from the kissing, but with Newt’s words whispered heatedly between them he could barely hold back and he rutted against Newt with a renewed effort as they kissed again.

At the sound of a groan from Newt he opened his eyes and Newt grabbed his butt, writhing under him and Thomas shifted so that he could move their groins together. Newt cried out as Thomas rubbed his hard cock over Newt’s erection - and then he was coming before he even knew it, his whole body tensing as he ground their hips together and he couldn’t catch his breath even to make a sound. He pressed Newt into the couch by his shoulders to give his hips more leverage. 

When Newt dug his fingers into Thomas’s butt again, lifting his hips to meet Thomas’s, Thomas kissed him, shoved a hand between them and found the hard line of his cock through his pants, rubbing and pressing, helping Newt along while he moaned out Thomas’s name against his lips.

“Oh fuck,” Thomas finally sighed, letting himself relax onto Newt’s body, moving a little so he didn’t crush him, head against Newt’s heaving chest, one leg still slung over his thighs as they stayed close, trembling limbs holding tight. 

Newt ran a hand over Thomas’s hair and Thomas looked up at him - he had an eyebrow raised, his mouth curved in a lopsided grin. “Now  _ that _ was unexpected,” he said, that gorgeous huskiness in his voice amplified by his harsh breaths.

Thomas clung to him, squeezing gently around his chest. “I came in my pants,” he said.

“Me too,” Newt laughed.

Thomas craned his neck and Newt met him halfway, kissing, faces damp with perspiration, underwear uncomfortably wet with cum. Thomas could care less. His world was nothing now but Newt, and he didn’t want to move from here.  


	4. Chapter 4

They lay together for ages, just holding on, getting their breath back. 

“Hey, Tommy,” Newt said after a while, soft, intimate.

Thomas murmured into his stomach, eyes not wanting to open, not wanting to move from their embrace. 

“D’you think the others are wondering where we got to?”

“Don’t care,” Thomas said.

Newt chuckled and the movement of his body jolted Thomas, but it just helped to remind him how close they were. Thomas had meant every word - he didn’t want to let go.

“Do you mind if they know about this?”

Thomas finally got the urge to move, enough to meet Newt’s eyes, and he looked up, shifting just enough that they were still touching in as many places as possible. “I don’t think I can keep it to myself,” he said. “What about you?”

Newt leaned in and kissed his forehead, stroking gently where his hand rested against Thomas’s neck. “I’m pretty sure it won’t be much of a surprise to Minho at least, not sure about Brenda,” he said.

Thomas frowned, understanding dawning. “Oh, you uh… you think she might be upset?”

“Tommy, she’s been giving you puppy eyes since day one.”

“She has not,” Thomas said, but he knew Newt was right. Thomas should have been clearer with her from the start, but he honestly hadn’t thought there would be any point in his immediate future when he would come into close physical contact with anyone like this. He hoped Brenda would understand that this thing between him and Newt, it was just meant to be. Nothing meant to hurt anyone else.

“So, you think we should go out there, maybe see what’s happening?” Newt asked.

“Hmm, I guess we should.” 

Newt prodded him. “Tommy, you’ve barely moved an inch since-” he paused, and Thomas looked at him, smirking.

“Since we made out and lost some of our brain cells through our dicks?” And there it was. Back to reality. “Oh, shuck it, Newt I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Newt grabbed him under one arm and with a combination of hefting and scooting down, they were level again, eyes meeting as Newt looked at him closely. “You don’t need to watch what you say around me, ok?”

Thomas nodded. “Ok.”

Newt kissed him, delving into it and Thomas’s stomach did a pleasant flip when Newt pushed in with his tongue, pressed up against him as if he was ready to go again, which right then Thomas would have been perfectly fine with. But then Newt stopped, pulled back and with a wide grin he said, “Just to remind you what’s here for later.”

Thomas could only blink at him, trying to catch his breath again as Newt climbed nimbly off him and began adjusting his clothes. Thomas stared for a moment, letting his eyes roam down Newt’s slender body. He wondered how Newt was able to move when Thomas still felt like goo. 

He lay on his back and shifted his own pants around a bit, trying to get more comfortable. There were showers somewhere but he had no energy for that, and to be honest the feel of his own cum in his pants, knowing that Newt had done that to him, it wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

Newt apparently felt the same since he was making no move to clean up either. He was watching Thomas with his head on one side. “You need some help?” he asked.

Thomas tried to sit up and groaned with the effort. Newt held out his hand and Thomas took it, letting Newt pull him to his feet. They stood close together, sharing the same space, chests brushing with each breath.

Newt still held onto Thomas, their hands wrapped around each others’ wrists. “Thanks,” he said, “for making this seem like it’s all ok.”

Thomas tried to keep the look of fear and trepidation off his face. Newt was an intelligent kid, they surely both knew that nothing about the cure was fixed until they had it in their hands - saw it working. He  looked down at their joined hands, closed his eyes for a moment before he could meet Newt’s again. “Same,” was all he could manage as his heart pounded. 

Newt smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Better get out there then,” he said, far too brightly. Thomas nodded. “Don’t worry, Tommy,” Newt said as he turned to open the door. 

He would try. Try not to be consumed with panic and worry for as long as he could. Stay close, keep Newt safe. Get the cure. They could do this.

 

As soon as they emerged into the Berg’s main compartment, Thomas knew something was up. Something  _ else _ . 

Minho rushed towards them. “Hey, Jorge says the Berg’s needing fuel - we have to land.”

“What? Where?” Thomas asked. 

“We’re still about half a day from the Right Arm’s main camp, but we won’t make it,” Brenda told them stepping out of the cockpit. 

“Doesn’t Jorge carry any spare?” Newt asked. Thomas looked at him and quickly away again as Brenda responded.

“We had to make a swift exit back there - should have refuelled at the airport. We’ve been trying to find somewhere safe but it looks like we’ll just have to find a clearing and set out from there.”

“On foot?” Thomas blurted. They were so much safer up here, and Newt didn’t have the luxury of time.

“It’s either that or we go down in a blazing wreck,” Minho told him. “I know which I’d prefer.” He came closer to Thomas and Newt and looked carefully at each of them. “What were you two doing back there?” he asked quietly. 

Thomas gave Newt a sideways look. “Sleeping,” he said carefully.

Newt gave a slight nod. And Minho just narrowed his eyes and grinned, walked away shaking his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group set out on foot to find the Right Arm.

Newt was calm. Calmer than he knew he should be considering everything that was going on right now. Jorge had found a clearing big enough to accommodate the Berg and within a matter of minutes they’d landed, grabbed what they could carry and hurried down the ramp into the cover of the trees. Somehow they had managed to get a fair distance away without meeting another living, or barely living, soul. Newt had fully expected to be greeted by a group of writhing Cranks as soon as they came into land. They all were wary though - there could be any number of nasties in these woods and they had only two Launchers between them, along with various other weapons from Jorge’s stash - the feel of a knife tucked in his boot and another down the back of his belt made Newt feel good.

What also helped was that Thomas kept to his word and stayed close. If they were holding hands the others probably wouldn’t be able to tell. Newt was keeping his head together because Tommy was beside him and he trusted him above all others.

Newt and Thomas were generally bringing up the rear as they followed Jorge’s lead. He knew the direction they needed to head, Newt just hoped it was as easy to get there on land as it would have been by air. They were all on edge, more so than usual, and Newt felt especially bad for Thomas because they hadn’t been so openly invested in each other before this point. They were each fiercely protective of the whole group, they always had been, but this change of dynamics made things feel different between him and Thomas - like end of the world different, if anything should happen to him. He couldn’t quite imagine what Thomas was feeling about it all.

They walked for hours, hours upon hours until they got too tired to go on and Jorge called it and they made camp, popping up two tents and making a fire in record time. Newt and Minho had spent years with this kind of living and he could almost believe they were back in the Glade, if he squinted, and at least they had some proper equipment, thanks to Jorge.

He and Thomas expected to share with Minho but Minho said he’d take first watch, switch with Jorge later on and then he’d wake Thomas. So Newt and Thomas got one tent to themselves for a couple of hours. They were both exhausted and although Newt got that pleasant squirmy feeling in his stomach when he watched Thomas get out of his shirt, he didn’t find himself with the same urge to tackle him as he had back on the Berg. Right now he just wanted Thomas’s arms around him, to feel his warmth. Thomas was looking at him as he lay down close by and Newt felt the need to pat the empty spot in between them. He wasn’t sure if Thomas was giving him space deliberately but he needed to make sure.

“If you wanted to cuddle, I’d be fine with that,” he said quietly. 

“Yeah?” Thomas said, moving closer, scooting right up against Newt’s side and tugging at his hip to roll them further towards each other. “I’d be pretty fine with that too, I didn’t want to expect anything though, you know? Not out here.”

“I don’t know what your definition of ‘cuddle’ is Tommy, but you don’t have to worry about either of us, uh… meeting expectations, right now.” He gave his friend a sly wink. “But you can keep that hand where it is,” he added, wriggling his hips a little under Thomas’s palm.

Thomas was rare to smile. Newt appreciated the small curves of his lips more than he could say, whenever they occurred. But this one, when he was taken by surprise and flashed a proper, natural smile - this was one of the best. 

“Did you ever cuddle anyone, back in the Glade?” Thomas murmured as he kissed Newt’s forehead. 

“No, I told you, never with anyone else.”

“I mean literally, just a hug? How did you go so long without that kind of thing?”

Newt shook his head, rolling onto his back. “Habit, I suppose, just never happened. Alby, he was a hugger, if you needed some physical contact, he was the man to go to.” He nodded at the memories of his friend. “Good that,” he whispered up to the roof of the tent.

Thomas propped a knee onto Newt’s thigh and his hand smoothed over Newt’s stomach. Newt closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. “Night, Tommy.”

“G’night, Newt.”

 

Newt awoke, clothes sticking to his body with a sheen of sweat and Minho softly calling Thomas’s name from outside the tent. Minho apparently guessed enough to not want to risk coming inside - Newt would have to speak to him, it didn’t seem fair to leave him in the dark about him and Thomas, not that Newt thought Minho would be bothered by it. 

He nudged Thomas who was lying practically on top of him, not helping the overheating. “Hey,” he said, and Thomas was awake in an instant.

“You ok?”

“Too hot,” Newt grumbled. “And Minho needs you.”

Thomas rolled over and sat up, shuffling to the doorway as Newt rubbed at his face. Thomas turned back to him. “You should get some more sleep, I’m going to switch with Minho.”

Newt frowned. “Well, wake me when it’s my turn, I’m not totally useless, you know.”

“I- I know that…” Thomas shook his head, confused and a bit hurt if Newt knew anything about him at all. Which he did. And he hadn’t meant to hurt him, he didn’t know where the grumpiness came from, he just felt irritated. “Sorry, I think I do need a bit more sleep.”

Thomas’s face relaxed and he nodded once, slipped out of the tent. Newt could hear him talking quietly with Minho, and Newt turned over, tired, hot, pissed off. He scratched at his stomach and tried to get comfortable enough to drop off again. He was only vaguely aware when Minho came inside and lay down where Thomas had been and Newt wished he hadn’t been so quick to dislodge him earlier - sleeping in Thomas’s arms was easy, despite the heat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* I'm sorry Newt - you're gonna be ok I promise.

The first sign of anything wrong was a rustle of leaves to Thomas’s left. He looked over to the thicker forest beside the path they were on, couldn’t see anything. He watched and waited before he caught up to Newt and Minho and hissed a warning. Just something vague about a rustling because that was all there was. 

And then suddenly all hell broke loose. 

Things had been too quiet - these Cranks weren’t too far Gone that they didn’t realise that hiding and ambushing was a great idea - they knew exactly what they were doing and as Jorge brought Brenda to a stop beside him, three Cranks rushed out of the undergrowth towards them. As Thomas shouted another warning he looked to his left again and two more were on them before he could even reach for his knife. Newt had his Launcher at the ready before even Jorge did and he’d brought down one while Thomas fell beneath another, hitting and kicking at the thing and struggling to grab his knife. Minho was on them in another moment and Thomas stuck his knife into the Crank’s neck with a scream as Minho dragged the flailing thing off him and Newt fired the Launcher. 

Minho rushed towards Brenda and Jorge’s fight and Newt helped Thomas up so they could follow, Thomas checking all around for more Cranks as they went. Jorge was in full battle mode, knives arcing through the air as he and Brenda fought back to back, and two of the Cranks were already down, Brenda holding her own against the other.

A raw cry behind Thomas had him spinning round in time to see a clearly full Gone Crank lumbering fast toward him - too quick - but before he could try to fend off the bloodied creature, it went down screaming and writhing in an electric web of blue fizz. Thomas blew out a low whistle. “Thanks, man,” he said, turning back to Newt, but as they each gave a relieved sigh, yet another Crank appeared from behind Newt as he was lowering his Launcher.

“Newt - behind you!” Thomas shouted, and Newt flew around, crying out as he was struck and stumbled backwards, the thing jumping on him and clawing at his head. The Crank raised both bloodied fists over Newt again as Thomas ran, launching himself forward onto the thing, yanking him off, bringing his knife up and plunging it with all his might into the soft, terrible flesh of the Crank’s chest.

Behind him he heard Minho shouting his name, then calling to Newt, and Thomas just kept stabbing, frantic now on top of the Crank, one knee on his leg, pressing down on his throat with one hand as he thrust the knife into his chest again and again. 

“Thomas! Thomas!” he heard from a distance and then arms surrounded him, Minho’s voice in his ear as he was pulled off the Crank, clearly dead now, at his feet. 

“Newt?” he gasped, coming back to himself quickly. “Is he..?”

“I don’t know, Brenda’s taking a look, he’s out cold.”

Thomas ran back to where the others were crowded around Newt, laid out on the ground. Thomas threw himself to his knees beside his friend and could only look on in horror as Brenda listened to his chest, tapped at his cheeks, tried to wake him. Thomas ran a hand through Newt’s hair, his hand came away bloody and he flinched. “Newt,” he cried, “wake up.”

“We have to go, there will be others,” Jorge told them, standing and grabbing up their dropped possessions. 

“Let’s get him up,” Minho said, “we’ll carry him.”

Thomas wondered how far they’d get that way and he wanted to check the bleeding had stopped, but as Minho hefted him up under his shoulders Newt coughed and squirmed.

“Newt?”

“Oh, good that, you’re heavier than you look, slinthead,” Minho gasped, sitting and propping Newt in his lap while Thomas checked his eyes, his head again.

“How many fingers?” he asked, holding up three.

“Six?” Newt said, frowning, and Thomas went wide-eyed until Newt laughed. “I’m ok, just give me a second,” he said. “Did we get them all?”

“We don’t know, need to get out of here.”

Newt was wobbly but he assured them he could walk and after a little water they set off, close together, eyes on the surrounding undergrowth as they went. Thomas hated this place.

 

Thomas kept the closest eye on Newt. He couldn’t believe he had been the one to get hurt. He was walking ok at first, but he tired before the others, started to fall back a bit. “You need to stop? Take a break?”

Jorge turned to them. “We should keep going, we can’t stay in these woods, not tonight.” 

“We just need a minute, ok?” Thomas told him. The others carried along a little slower as Newt sat down heavily on a fallen tree.

“You go on too, I’ll catch up,” Newt said. 

“No way, are you kidding?” Thomas said. “We stay together, remember?”

Newt shook his head and looked down at himself. He’d been idly scratching at his stomach and now he lifted his shirt and Thomas nearly took a step back when he saw it - a wound, no bigger than a scratch really, but already there was the tell-tale pattern under Newt’s skin of the Flare.

“No,” Thomas said before he could stop himself.

“It’s not that bad yet… is it?” Newt whispered. 

Thomas looked away, looked anywhere but at the patch of horror developing on his friend’s body. When he could look back he shook his head. But Newt had pulled his shirt down and was watching Thomas with his brows drawn together, his lips a thin line.

“It’s small, it is-” Thomas tried, but he knew he’d lost some trust right then. His reaction had been fear and denial and Newt didn’t deserve that.

“Right, ok, let’s get moving then,” Newt said quietly. Thomas watched as he struggled up and dragged himself forward to help, but Newt shook him off. “Don’t need help.”

Thomas could only trudge on after him, berating himself, wanting to apologise - no words could take away what had happened though. That shuck-Crank had given Newt even less time than he’d had already.

They had to get to the Right Arm. None of them could do this for much longer. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt starts to remember his past as the Flare worsens.

“Hey, are you ok?” Newt had been gone a while and Thomas was more than a little relieved to see him back by the fire. He didn’t follow the guy around when he was taking a piss or whatever he needed to do, but after the attack he was extra stressed. The firelight dancing on Newt’s features brought his troubled expression into stark relief.

Newt shook his head once and went straight to their tent. Thomas looked at the others, Brenda and Jorge deep in quiet conversation and Minho already dozing by the fire. Thomas should wake him, but he knew Minho liked to be out here, in the open, maybe feeling safer by the fire. He went after Newt.

He’d left the doorway open and Thomas knelt and stuck his head inside. Newt had his back turned and was pulling on a fresh t-shirt. Thomas stifled a gasp, poorly disguising it as a cough as Newt turned around. Prominent red and purple veins under his skin crisscrossed his lower back and curved around his side - Newt covered them from view as he pulled the shirt down and Thomas met his eyes, shaking his head in a stuttered motion and not knowing what to say. “Shit,” he whispered. “It’s spreading?” 

Newt nodded as they stared at each other. 

Thomas wanted to reach for him but he held back. “Does it hurt…? To touch, or-” His voice broke and he had to look away, wipe at his eyes. He cried out in frustration, so angry with himself for not holding it together for Newt. He thumped the ground by his knees. “We’re gonna make it Newt, ok?”

Newt looked unconvinced, once again letting his mask slip. He wasn’t ok. Thomas was failing him badly right now by letting his emotions get in the way and allowing Newt to see  _ him _ falling apart. He crawled further into the tent, stomach lurching as Newt sat back, turning his body away as Thomas got closer. “Newt,” he whispered, “I’m sorry, please…” 

He reached out again but Newt shot him a glance and his eyes flashed with anger alongside the constant pain that Thomas was so afraid of. “You can’t bear to look at me, but now you want to touch me?” he hissed.

“No, no, no,” Thomas let out in a quiet rush, “Newt… I’m so sorry,” he was crying now, tears falling freely as he knelt in front of his friend, desperate, longing, just wanting this whole shucking mess to be gone - how was this happening?

Newt stayed back, his frown deepening as he screwed his eyes shut, lifted his shirt hem and forced Thomas to look again at his stomach. “This is real, this is happening - you know it, I know it.” He opened his eyes and Thomas tried to meet them steadily. “Out there?” Newt pointed to where the others were outside. “They haven’t seen this - what d’you think they’d do if they did? Huh?”

“Newt.” It was the only word he could say clearly.

Newt came closer in a sudden move that made Thomas startle and his breath hitch. 

“They’d be scared,” he hissed into Thomas’s ear. “This little adventure we’re dragging them on? You think if they saw how far gone I was already they’d think it was worth it?”

“But… Minho-”

“He doesn’t think the same way as you, Thomas, he’s pushed friends into the shucking Maze so they didn’t  _ kill _ us in our sleep. I’m no different now.”

“You are…” Thomas blurted, “you are different - he wouldn’t do that to you. Jorge says it’s not much further - Newt, don’t lose hope, please.” 

Newt stared at him, looked down to where Thomas had placed his hand on his arm. He shook his head sadly. “What if I hurt you? What if it gets so bad that I hurt you - you think they’ll let me be here then?”

“You won’t,” Thomas said, sure in his heart that Newt wouldn’t hurt him. 

Newt closed his eyes and seemed to relax a little. “Your never ending hope has always pissed me right off, Tommy.” He opened his eyes and despite his words he smiled a little. 

Thomas reached up slowly, gently touched Newt’s cheek, not sure whether Newt would allow it, heart thumping when his friend leaned into his hand. 

He carefully slid his other hand around Newt’s waist, drawing him up against his chest, until they were kneeling together, sagging against each other, Newt’s head on Thomas’s shoulder. No more words.

That night the screams started. Thomas nearly leapt into the air as he was woken. Newt was lying on his back, yelling out as his body writhed and Thomas was beside him in an instant, not sure whether to hold onto him, opting for taking his hand, trying to keep his voice calm as he told him it was ok, he was ok, Thomas was with him.

Voices outside were quick to call in -  _ What the hell? Are you guys ok? _ “It’s ok, it’s ok,” Thomas called back, “I’ve got this! I’ve got this,” he added in a whisper to himself. “I’ve got you Newt, I’m here, it’s ok…”

Gradually, the volume of his cries diminished, Newt’s limbs went loose and relaxed and his eyes opened. He was breathing harshly, sweat pouring off him as he gripped Thomas’s hand, hard.

Thomas leaned over him. “I’m here,” he repeated over and over, keeping his voice calm and low as he stroked Newt’s damp forehead. 

Newt lay back, exhausted, not saying a word as his eyes closed. 

Thomas lay down beside him, wrapping an arm protectively over his chest. He didn’t sleep another moment though, just watched and willed Newt to find some peace, wherever he was inside his head.

 

Newt woke with a start, the perfect weight of Thomas’s arm across him keeping him steady, letting him know in an instant where he was, that he was safe. But then a flood of images came back to him - a younger Thomas in clean white clothes, smiling at him from across a table, looking around before leaning in and kissing him lightly on the cheek. Watching Thomas from across a room, looking away with a grin when Thomas realised he was being watched. Another time, alone together in a room with bunks, the two of them squeezed onto the lower bunk together, just holding each other. 

He nudged the real Thomas until he opened his eyes and murmured his name. 

“Wasn’t asleep,” Thomas muttered. “You ok?” He raised up on an elbow and looked at Newt with those soft, deep brown eyes and the previous night came back to Newt in a rush. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, I was being an arse last night.” He struggled a bit, sat up and hugged his knees. 

“Hey, no, no you weren’t.”

Newt raised an eyebrow at him. “Tommy, don’t be a slinthead.”

Thomas just looked back, scratching his forehead, pushing his hair back from his face. “It’s not you, any of that stuff, it’s not you.”

“The bloody Flare’s got a lot to answer for, huh?”

Thomas nodded. “We need to get going, need to hurry.”

They packed up, thankfully no one else mentioned the screaming that Newt also remembered from his restless sleep.

Minho had spotted lights in the distance overnight and they had a slight change of direction to make today if they were to find the source.

They had to get this bloody cure quick or Newt wasn’t going to make it. He resisted the urge to check his skin, he didn’t want to know. But he could feel it inside and out now. He was getting worse and he had to force himself out of the threatening panic that thought caused him. 

He dragged a little way behind the others as they began their hike, Thomas looking back to check on him every few minutes. Finally, Thomas slowed a little and asked if he wanted company. He didn’t ask if he was ok. He wasn’t an idiot. “If you don’t mind silence,” Newt said. He couldn’t imagine he’d be much good at conversation today.  

They went on together, Newt watching their feet, Thomas leading as they followed the others upwards, the trees growing more sparse as they climbed. The clearer air as they got higher made Newt feel more alert, more free - both in and out of his head. 

Thomas stayed close and Newt had to admire the guy, he wasn’t sure he would be so patient if their positions were reversed. He hoped he would. When he slipped his hand into Thomas’s, Thomas squeezed and held on tight. Newt’s body tingled in response and he tried to push the reality of his immediate future up and away into the clouds above them.  

 

“I’m remembering stuff,” Newt said as they lay together that night, Newt resting back against Thomas’s chest, Thomas’s arms wrapped around him, fingers entwined. “When we said goodbye, before I went into the Maze.”

Thomas swallowed hard. “We were friends..? Before?” Newt nodded and he looked suddenly devastated. “More than friends?” Thomas murmured, desperate for the memories himself but more than a little concerned that Newt could remember, and what that meant for his state of mind.

“Yeah, yeah we were more than friends, Tommy.” A tear slipped down into his hair and Thomas hugged him closer. 

“We found each other again,” he said, and Newt turned in his arms, resting on his elbows as Thomas watched, hoping so hard that Newt would stay lucid tonight. 

Newt’s arms went around him like a vice, clutching at his jacket as if he could pull their bodies into one. And Thomas really wished that they could - wished he could take Newt’s pain and hide it away inside himself - make it all ok for Newt. He had to make this better. Had to.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt's mind deteriorates further and he finds it harder to control his nightmares.
> 
> There's mention of Newt hurting Thomas here which makes me really sad, but he is basically turning into a Crank and it's something that could easily happen. And I hope the thought of Thomas forgiving him so easily seems realistic too, because although I in no way condone violence in any rl relationship, these boys are in very unreal circumstances.

Newt was lost again, the things he could see in front of him weren’t what he knew should be there, his feet were still trudging along beside the pair of boots he knew, he _knew_ belonged to Thomas, but under his feet wasn’t leaves and sticks, mud and stones, it was white tile. And the dirty combats he knew he was wearing, they were clean, not covered in Crank blood and whatever else he knew should be there.

And then there was the voice beside him - Thomas’s voice - soft, endearing, talking as if the words were just for Newt, he could almost feel his breath against his face as he turned towards him. And Thomas stopped them, pressed him lightly against the wall of the corridor they were walking in.

“Newt,” Thomas whispered. “I don’t know how long we have.” He was looking around them, glancing left and right and Newt was smiling at Thomas’s indecision, maybe even there was a bit of teasing there, Thomas enjoying making Newt wait for it. He didn’t want to wait though and he pulled Thomas in, kissed him, heedless of who might find them.

And there was someone else, someone close by, loudly clearing his throat and making Thomas turn his face away, as Newt frowned and tried to focus on who it was.

Minho - he was staring at the two of them with wide eyes. And then he smiled and nodded, pointing a finger at them both, “I knew it - I knew I heard something the other night.”

He didn’t seem upset, just a little bit scandalised maybe.

Thomas looked back at Newt and they were suddenly back in the woods and up ahead a little way Jorge and Brenda were standing blinking at them both. “There’s a time and a place _muchacho,_ don’t you think?”

“Boys, come on, save it will you?” Brenda added. “You need your energy for walking.”

“Newt?” Thomas was watching him.

“Uh… yes?”

The permanently worried look on Thomas’s face was now mixed with amusement and confusion as Minho told them both to hurry up and went to catch up with the others. “You ok? You weren’t really… well, _here_ for a moment,” Thomas said.

“Didn’t you... kiss me?” Newt asked.

“You kissed me. Which I’m not complaining about, not at all.”

Newt looked at his toes, smirking. “Sorry, Tommy,” he murmured. “I think I was back at WICKED - with you, before everything. It was nice, you were telling me something, and then you kissed me.”

“You stopped walking, I asked if you needed a break, you grabbed me,” Thomas told him.

Newt raised an eyebrow. “Well, at least everyone knows now and we don’t have to worry about keeping quiet later.”

Thomas smiled. “They’ve known for days, Minho’s just messing with us. You didn’t think I wanted them to know? I’m proud to be with you, Newt.”

Newt just hadn’t thought anyone would care at this point about what was going on between them, there was too much else to trouble them. Minho had picked off another two Cranks in the woods last night and they’d found what was surely a nest already this morning, thankfully empty of Cranks.

But he had a swell of warmth and gratitude that Thomas had told the others, that he’d thought it was important, even out here.

Thomas gestured to the others with a head tilt and he held out his hand. Newt took it gratefully and they set off again.

“If I try anything again, maybe try to let me down gently, ok?” he said.

“You know, as things are going, if you want to kiss me at any time I’m not gonna be able to say no to that.”

Newt chuckled. “Fair enough.”

 

Newt woke up thrashing and screaming and he tried to stop, he tried - and Thomas was right there and Newt needed to stop because he couldn’t hurt him, but he couldn’t stop shaking and his throat was raw from the screaming - and Thomas was quiet and holding his hand, calm as he felt his forehead and opened his shirt a little, put a cool cloth on his skin, spoke to him so softly, kissed his forehead when Newt was still enough to allow it. He lay down beside him, kept hold of his hand, squeezed it, brought his other to rest on Newt’s chest, lightly stroking circles with his thumb, fingers tucked inside Newt’s shirt.

Newt rolled to his side, finally breathing a little easier, grabbed at Thomas’s arm and brought them close. “Please, Tommy, kiss me,” he whispered. “I want to feel alive again, even if it’s the last time.”

“No, no it’s not the last time - it’s not much further Newt, you can hold on - you have to hold on.”

“Yeah, yeah I will,” Newt said, but he didn’t even know if he meant it. When he closed his eyes all he could see was red. Blood. Cranks. He was cracking.

Thomas brushed his fingertips down Newt’s cheek. “You’re still you, you’re not a Crank, you’re not.”

“Then bloody kiss me, Tommy.”

The demand seemed to get them both moving and Thomas was on him in an instant, kissing him roughly, bringing their bodies close with a hand on Newt’s lower back. Newt grabbed onto Thomas’s hair, pulling their mouths flush against each other, lips pressed hard, teeth clacking together. He groaned at that and Thomas pulled back and searched his face and Newt pulled him in again, needing this to keep him off the edge, to keep him _here._

He parted his lips and drew Thomas’s lower lip into his mouth, Thomas tugging at his own clothes, breaking the kiss for just long enough to get his shirt over his head and then he was kissing Newt again, mouth hot and demanding against his, just what Newt needed - he didn’t want gentle, tentative - right now he needed the harsh scrape of Thomas’s stubble against his cheek, the nip of teeth against his lower lip, hands pushing him down, holding him in place.

“Yes, yes,” he gasped out, as Thomas moved his lips down, pressing biting kisses to his jaw then his neck, sliding a firm hand between their bodies and Newt cried out against Thomas’s neck as he gripped his cock, hard, through his clothes.

Thomas put his other hand to Newt’s face, searching his eyes, breaths coming sharp and fast as he whispered, “Are we good?”

“Yeah,” Newt breathed, “yeah, so good - please-”

Thomas tore at his clothes then, warm hands meeting sensitive skin and Newt took a second to appreciate it - to marvel at how all his attention was now focused on Tommy and his hands, on the wrecked look on his face as he finally wrapped his fingers around Newt’s hard cock. “Oh fuck, Tommy…” Newt cried out, unable to control words or volume as he lay his head back, arching up into Thomas’s hand.

Thomas kissed him again, his hand beginning a rhythm that Newt knew was going to make him come within seconds. He wanted it, he needed it - but he wanted it to last, he wanted to stay in this exact place and not have to go back to that space in his head where he couldn’t see what was real and what was fantasy.

“Newt,” Thomas whispered, as his hand continued to stroke him just right and he kissed Newt again, lips barely touching as he looked down into his face, his eyes so dark and wide and loving and Newt was bucking up into his hand, couldn't keep his hips still and Thomas sped up his hand, bearing down on him until everything tensed up, and Newt was left gasping into Thomas’s mouth as he kissed him through his orgasm, grabbing onto Thomas and bringing him close as he ground it out against his body.

He didn’t want to let go but gradually his grip slackened a little and Thomas, shaking against him, moved slightly, hands still touching him, still caressing him, keeping him close as Newt tried to stay in that limbo of pleasure they had created. And then he remembered Thomas and shifted so he could look at him properly. “Shit, I didn’t - are you..?”

Thomas gave him a half smile, eyes lowered almost shyly, “I’m good, I’m good,” he said softly.

Newt let his head fall back and drew Thomas into his arms so he didn’t even think of moving away. “If we get through this, I’m going to take care of you properly, ok?” he promised breathlessly.

Thomas nodded against his cheek. “You don’t need to do anything,” he whispered.

 

Thomas woke up alone. He didn’t know how he could have let Newt out of his arms when he always stirred at the slightest noise, the smallest movement of his friend beside him. But not this time. “Newt?” he called softly, his throat raw and aching, but he could hear the panic already behind the word. He shuffled quickly to the doorway, unzipped just a little - how had he missed that? He hurried outside, the early dawn still dim and cold. Jorge had his back turned but he was there, keeping watch as usual. “Jorge,” Thomas tried too loudly, forcing a coughing fit before he managed to ask, “Have you seen Newt?”

“No, _hermano_ , no he hasn’t been passed me.” Jorge was on his feet.

“Why would he creep? If he was just going for a piss why would he creep?”

Jorge shook his head.

“Newt!” Thomas called out, not caring about the risk of noise just then.

Brenda appeared from the other tent and Minho scrambled out close behind. “What’s happened?”

“I can’t find him, I think he’s taken off,” Thomas said, already making for the woods - he had to start somewhere.

“Thomas wait,” Minho tried.

“I have to find him!”

“Take the Launcher, I’ll try this way.”

Thomas took it from him and set off, pausing every few seconds to look around him, listening for any sign of his friend.

After several minutes he stopped, dropping to a crouch, heart punching against his ribs - _Newt_.

The crack of a twig behind him made him leap to his feet.

“You have to let me go,” Newt’s voice said through the darkness.

“Newt, what… no,” Thomas cried out, relief and fear flooding him at the same time.

“All I could see was blood - blood red over everything - that’s what will happen when I pass the Gone.”

“No, no, Newt we’ve been through this - you can fight it - we can make it,” he said.

“You don’t remember me hurting you last night?”

“What?” Thomas shook his head, willing himself not to think about it.

“I nearly choked you in your sleep,” Newt said, his voice turning into a harsh whisper.

“You didn’t, I stopped you,” Thomas whispered back.

“You shouldn’t have to stop me from trying to kill you. You have to let me go.”

“You know I can’t do that... I can’t - I made you a promise. We will get that cure - they can reverse the disease. I can’t - Newt, I can’t be without you, not now - not ever, _please_ … just a bit longer-” He was sobbing, couldn’t stop pleading, couldn’t get the words out.

Newt came to him, taking Thomas in his arms, burying his face in his neck as Thomas clung to him. “I’m sorry, Tommy, I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt, I’m fine,” Thomas told him.

They clung to each other, neither making a move to get up from their knees even when Thomas felt the wet ground soaking into his pants. Nothing mattered but keeping Newt in his arms.

“Don’t leave me, please,” he whispered, when he could get the words out. Maybe he was being selfish, but he was also trying to save his friend. Newt mattered more to him than himself - he could take care of himself. He would tie Newt down if he had to.

“Ok,” Newt told him in a broken whisper.

 

“You know if it doesn’t work, I’m not going to that Crank Palace - I want you to finish this.”

“You’re not going to any shuck-palace Newt. You don’t think I’d let them take you?”

“You can’t always be there to hold me down.”

“Yes, I can - that’s exactly what I can do. And when we get through there,” he pointed up ahead to where they could clearly see the camp now, behind a long line of trees not too far off, “you’re gonna be ok - I know it.”

Newt sighed and then visibly changed the direction of his thoughts. “You want to know how you said goodbye to me, before I went into the maze?” he said, as if it was just idle talk and wasn’t the most potentially heartbreaking thing they could be talking about.

Thomas shook his head, really unsure that he wanted to hear this. But Newt was here with him, talking sense and Thomas wanted to help that along as best he could. “Tell me,” he said.

Newt sucked in his lips and took Thomas’s hand, bringing him to a stop. “You said, ‘You’re my best friend, don’t ever forget it.’”

“That was a dumb thing to say, huh?” Thomas said quietly, but Newt was shaking his head.

“No, I think you just have foresight, Tommy. You knew we’d get back to each other, make it to the end.”

Thomas watched his face carefully, trying to see those changes on Newt’s face that were churning inside him. But all he saw was love. He managed a deep breath and pulled Newt into a hug, wiping at his eyes over Newt’s shoulder.

“Thomas,” Minho’s voice called, and he reluctantly let Newt go and turned to their friend. “Cranks - loads of them - all along the tree line. How are we going to get passed them?”

“Shuck this, why is nothing ever simple?” Thomas said, exasperated that they were now so close but had yet another hurdle to overcome.

They stopped and rested, trying to come up with a way to break through, with their Launchers low on ammo, Newt deteriorating before their eyes, all of them low on energy - how were they meant to get through there?

Thomas decided pretty quickly that he would go it alone. The others were clearly less than happy about that but he was determined - he could creep down there, slip through, fighting when he had to - he could do it. He’d get inside, bring out help, come back up here to get them.

They weren’t having it.

“Shuckface, there is no way you are going off alone,” Minho said, “so sit back down.”

“Thomas, I know you think you can do this, but you can’t do it by yourself,” Brenda said, looking to Jorge.

“ _Hermano_ , none of us is going it alone. We’ll get through them together.”

Newt was just watching him, when Thomas met his eyes he shook his head. “Tommy, remember what you said - we stay together - bad shit happens when we split up.”

“I know, but… you need the cure, Newt, it’s just over there,” Thomas said, pointing over to the camp. “Maybe they won’t notice just one of us - I have to try.”

Newt shook his head again, putting his hand on Thomas’s knee. “No. You’re not leaving without us.”

“Maybe we can create a distraction,” Jorge murmured.

Minho jumped on that idea. “A fire, something big - make a big group of them come up here.”

“Leaving a clear path through the trees?” Brenda said.

The others nodded. It was a possibility.

They began gathering loose branches, leaves and twigs, anything to get a big enough pile together to start a blaze. It felt like they were doing something proactive, but it still felt, to Thomas, like they were losing time. He watched Newt carefully, he didn’t look to be in pain, physically, but Thomas knew the turmoil going on inside, they had all heard it at night.

They stood back when the pyre was a good size. Jorge took out his matches and got to work. It didn’t take long, the material was so dry it went up straight away. They backed further off, readying themselves for the Cranks, not to take them on of course, but to make their move as soon as they could see a good gap in the trees. The effect of the fire was almost instantaneous - already Thomas could see a bunch of them breaking away, looking towards the flames.

“Down there,” he said, showing the others. “That’s our way in.”

They stayed put though, had to wait for their best shot. As they watched, as they waited, Thomas became aware of a low rumble in the distance.

“An engine!” Jorge cried.

“A Berg?” Brenda asked as they all scanned the camp ahead of them.

“Could be,” Jorge murmured, and as they watched, there it was - rising up slowly above the trees.

Minho and Thomas looked at each other and immediately moved out into the clearing between them and the Cranks, shouting and waving, making the biggest scene they could as the others joined them. From the camp tree line the Cranks were gaining ground but it was slow progress, especially once they, too, could hear and see the Berg above them and seemed confused by it.

Thomas knew they should be more cautious, but there was no other obvious way to let the Right Arm know they were here, so they kept on, shouting and waving until the Berg came to a halt just above them and lowered slowly.

The ramp opened and the most welcome sight greeted them as a man stood there, holding to the side and called down, “Nice signal. Haven’t been able to walk in here for some time.” Thomas was lost for words, but thankfully the man continued, “Need a ride?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Right Arm's camp, the boys finally get some rest. But Thomas can't shake the worries, even now that they're safe.

Thomas sat, head in his hands by Newt’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up. He kept thinking of his friend’s faces, the relief as they climbed on board the Berg, Newt hauling him inside as Thomas made a final look behind him to see a group of Cranks closing in. They had all stood looking at each other, kind of shell-shocked that they had made it. Minho’s whoop of joy actually made him flinch as he brought Thomas and Newt into a hug. “We made it, we made it!” 

But Thomas had felt apprehension - even in the middle of a rescue he could only worry that they weren’t in the clear yet - that as soon as the Right Arm found out Newt wasn’t immune they’d be thrown right back out here.

But Mary had greeted them with open arms - Gally’s story about her in Denver had been real. Mary seemed to know more about Thomas than he did about himself. He had only to mention the cure and she had ushered them all to a tent and brought out her equipment. There was nothing fancy about it, no big deal at all apparently - she sat Newt on a low bed, Thomas beside him on a chair, took some blood from Thomas, mixed it in a vial with some blue liquid, and within moments she had injected Newt with the solution and he was lying back against the pillow. He’d passed out, right away, not even time for Thomas to tell him he’d be right here. But he would have stayed right in this spot regardless. 

He stroked Newt’s hand, held between his own, not wanting to let go. He’d made Newt a promise; they’d been through so much, he wasn’t letting him go - not before he knew Newt was ok. He refused to move to another bed, refused food, only took a little water because he knew he needed it. 

Minho came in to check on them, telling Thomas he’d done good, this was all thanks to him getting them out of the maze, if he hadn’t Newt would never had had a chance. Thomas nodded sluggishly, but he couldn’t feel much joy just yet. 

And then Newt woke up. Thomas sat up from where he’d been resting his head on his arms, squeezing Newt’s hand gently, watched his face with wide eyes, aching inside to know if it’d worked - was he ok now?

“Hi,” Newt croaked, looking across to him.

“Hey, how do you feel..? Any different?”

Newt pressed his head back into the pillow, a slow smile spreading over his features. His whole body actually seemed relaxed. “Hmm, feels ok in here,” Newt said, tapping a finger to his head, “early days though, I suppose.” Thomas watched him, feeling himself calm now that Newt was awake. 

Newt pushed the blanket down his chest a little and lifted his shirt to check his skin, and sure enough, it was clear. “How long’s it going to last?” 

“We’ve got a big box of the enzyme, just for you - whenever you need more. And all they need in return is my blood. So, as long as I’m here, you’re here.”

“So, we’re connected by blood now? I’ve got a bit of you in here as well?”

Thomas nodded slowly. “Right.” 

Newt grinned. “I like that.”

“Yeah?” Thomas straightened up a bit, ran a hand through his hair as he held tight to Newt’s hand with the other. “I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Good that,” Newt agreed. Then he raised an eyebrow at Thomas. “What about you? Have you slept?”

“I’m ok, I’m-” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes.

“Tommy, have you slept since we got here?”

Thomas flushed with warmth at the name only Newt gave him - he might never have heard it again. “Uh, no, not really, didn’t want to leave you alone.”

Newt squeezed Thomas’s hand. “You need to rest,” he said softly, tugging their joined hands. “Lie down with me?” 

Thomas nodded. “I- sure, ok,” he said. Putting his sudden awkwardness down to relief and tiredness, he stood up, kicked off his boots and sat down beside Newt, scooting down until he lay beside his friend, heads together on the pillow.

“Thank you, for getting us here,” Newt murmured, as he put his arm around Thomas, bringing him close on the narrow bed.

“It was all of us - don’t ever think you didn’t play your part, Newt.”

Newt kissed him, a light peck on his lips that Thomas felt deep in his chest. 

“Where are the others?”

“Resting, they’ve all been checking on you.”   
“And you stayed with me the whole time?”

Thomas nodded. “It’s what we do, remember?”

Newt chuckled. “Yeah, good that, Tommy.”

 

Newt opened his eyes to two faces peering down at him. Brenda and Minho were smiling as he shifted a little. He realised why he couldn’t sit up when he looked down and saw Thomas beside him, arm wrapped firmly around his chest. As he smiled towards his friend Thomas opened his eyes and sat up quickly when he noticed their audience. 

“Uh, hey, you guys all right?”

“We’re all fine,” Brenda said. “Just came to tell you both that we’re packing up - we’re going on to the Safe Haven.”

“They’d had word that we were coming here,” Minho told them, “but they couldn’t trace us after we ditched the Berg. Gally’s here. We’re ok with them, I think we can trust them.”

Thomas nodded as Newt watched him, wondering if he was ok. He hadn’t eaten or slept properly in days and now they had to travel again. Still, if it was to the Safe Haven then it was worth it. Newt was ready to stop and he would bet Thomas was too.

“I’m about ready to do some following, you know?” Thomas said in that soft, understated way of his. “So, just show me the way and I’m there.”

Newt was concerned for a minute that there was a sense of defeat about his friend, like he’d given up even though things were looking better now than they had for weeks. “You ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thomas nodded.

The others trailed off after telling Newt how glad they were he was ok, then he and Thomas were alone again. It wasn’t exactly a private space, there wasn’t even a curtain, just a long open-plan tent, a few empty beds lined up beside theirs. 

Newt sat up, working out whether he felt any pain anywhere. He didn’t, he just felt good - better than he had for a long time if he was honest, even before the Flare took hold. He propped his back against the headboard as Thomas looked up at him, resting on an elbow. 

“You still feel good?” Thomas asked. 

“Better than good,” Newt told him. “Thank you, seriously, I really wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

Thomas didn’t answer, he shuffled closer to Newt and wrapped his arms around him again, pressing his face into Newt’s stomach. Newt hugged him back, loving the warmth that Thomas gave off, wishing they were alone, wishing he had words to express properly what had been going on in his head and what it felt like now. “It’s quiet,” he said after a while, “I can’t hear anything except your noisy breathing.”

Thomas looked up, “Sorry,” he said, and it sounded almost like a question. 

“It’s great,” Newt told him, “it’s perfect. The worst of the Flare was the constant stream of... visions or whatever they were. I didn’t know whether I was here or not half the time.”

“I know.”

“But now, I just have a head full of good stuff.”

Thomas frowned a little. “Good stuff… from before?”

“Yeah. And the Glade, and you. Just feels better.”

“Yeah, it must do.”

“I need to take a piss,” Newt said, suddenly feeling the need, and Thomas immediately moved off him, shifting to stand by the bed. 

“You need a hand getting up?”

Newt stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing as Thomas just stared back. “No, I can manage, thanks though, Tommy. Maybe later, ok?”

Thomas shook his head, grinning a little, and his cheeks looked a little warm. Newt stood up and put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Get some more sleep? I’ll wake you when we need you, ok?”

Thomas seemed reluctant but he sat down on the bed again. 

“Bathroom’s just outside there,” he said, pointing to the double doors at the end of the tent.

Newt gave him a wink and went to go get himself cleaned up.

 

Thomas woke up again not really knowing where he was and before he opened his eyes he took a moment to breathe through the panic that rose in his chest. He shouldn’t have been surprised to feel a warm hand on his when he pressed it to his sternum, but he was. His eyes flew open and his breathing was far from calm when he met Newt’s eyes. His friend was sitting by his bedside, on the chair Thomas had spent so many hours watching over Newt before. 

“Uh… hey, what’s going on?” he managed, voice only just legible. 

“Everything’s packed up, we’re spending one more night here, setting out tomorrow,” Newt told him. “I said we’d use our tent outside, so that we don’t take up room in here.”

“Yeah, right, I need to get up anyway. Is it night already?” Thomas said, knowing he sounded confused and unable to stop himself. Maybe he’d overslept - he felt ok, beginning to breathe easier, just not very clear-headed. 

Newt was smiling as Thomas sat up and rubbed at his eyes before he risked standing. “Not yet. You want to go get some food with the others?”

Thomas stretched and nodded, easing out his neck which was for some reason stiffer having used a real pillow than it had been lying on the hard-packed forest floor.

They found Minho, Brenda and Jorge with several other groups, spread out around a campfire, plenty of food for everyone. Thomas kind of wished that they could stay here, but according to Mary, and Vince and Gally who’d shown up while he’d slept, it was only a matter of time before this place became unsafe. Everyone had packs to carry, everything was organised and stowed for transport, and tomorrow they would trek, under the watchful eye of the Right Arm’s three Bergs, to the Safe Haven. 

Thomas sat beside Brenda, opposite to Newt and Minho and they were all smiles, such a different atmosphere to recent times. It definitely felt better, safer amongst the Right Arm, and Thomas tried to relax, feeling the warmth spread each time he looked up and Newt caught his eyes. There wasn’t much talk about what Newt had been through and Thomas guessed he was fine with that. He’d gone through a rough time, not knowing if he’d get worse, if they’d get the cure or not. And there was that churning of worry in Thomas’s stomach again. He knew Newt was ok, for now, and that with the enzyme shot he’d stay well. But it was going to take time to be completely ok with the whole thing. Newt was taking it in his stride though and that helped.

Brenda leaned over to him and whispered, “You guys are so cute together, I’m so glad he’s ok.”

Thomas turned, all wide-eyed surprise and Brenda was smiling at him. She kissed his cheek and tucked her arm around his waist and he put his arm over her shoulders, allowing himself to enjoy the easy friendship she still offered after all they’d been through.

Newt was smiling at him when he looked back across the table, gave him a wink which sent a pleasant shiver through Thomas. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleasant shivers indeed. Chapter 10 is coming later ;) And I think I'm going to have to go full on Explicit with this, just to be safe.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas finally lets someone else (Newt of course! Surprise!) take care of him for a change. Things get messy.

That night, Thomas crawled into the tent a few minutes after Newt. The shower water had been the best thing he’d felt against his skin since… well, since he’d last had Newt’s hands on him. “Uh, hey,” he said, uncertainty clear in his voice. Newt was settling himself into a sort of nest made of pillows Mary had given them, and some soft-looking blankets. Thomas gave him a half smile as he looked up. “You sure you don’t want me to find somewhere else to sleep?”

Newt frowned at him as Thomas sat back on his heels. “What’s up? You don’t want to stay here?”

“No, no, I do… I just… I didn’t know if this was still... if we were still- Ah shuck it,” Thomas said,  exasperated with himself. They’d shared this little tent several times now, in the woods. Now they were safe in the enclosed compound of the camp they could relax a little. But Thomas couldn’t help but dwell on the other glaring difference: they didn’t have to be here, just the two of them - Newt didn’t need Thomas to keep him safe anymore. 

He tried again. “If you wanted to go back to how we were before, now that you’re ok-”

Newt was watching him, brow still furrowed, and seemed more than a little confused by Thomas’s words. Then he came closer and put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder, fingers squeezing into it, firm and solid against Thomas’s nerves. 

“Before?” Newt said. “You know that before the maze we were together. And the last few days? That was some good stuff between us, despite the… you know.” He twirled a finger around by his temple and rolled his eyes a little. Thomas bit on his lower lip. “I don’t want anything to change Tommy, not if you don’t.”

Thomas was already shaking his head, so relieved to hear that from his friend. “No, no way, I want this - I want you,” he said in a quiet rush. “Wish I could remember how we were before.”

“Maybe I can fill you in as we go along,” Newt murmured, leaning in and kissing Thomas on the cheek, just below his ear and Thomas closed his eyes and felt his breathing stutter as his hand went around Newt’s arm to hold on. Newt kept kissing him, firm presses along his jaw until he turned his face, needing more and Newt found his lips and Thomas lunged into it, licking into his mouth and grasping his hair. They kissed until a rational thought struck him and he pulled back and met Newt’s heavy-lidded eyes. “Before- did we… do you remember anymore? Us doing more than this?”

Newt smiled. “Kissing. I remember lots of kissing.” He punctuated that with another deep kiss to Thomas’s waiting mouth. “We used to share the same bed more often than not,” he said, kissing down Thomas’s throat, making him groan with the ticklish pleasure. “Minho was always sighing and glaring at us when he’d find us.” Thomas couldn’t help but smile at that, imagining the look on Minho’s face back then, finding his friends in an awkward embrace. “But we were mostly just cuddling, being close,” Newt continued softly, then he slid his hand down Thomas’s chest and his fingers ended up in the waistband of Thomas’s pants. “We might have-” he rubbed at Thomas’s already hardening cock through his pants and Thomas let out a low moan- “done  _ this _ a couple of times, but that’s it.”

Thomas tugged on Newt’s hair to urge him to kiss him again and Newt did, and he kept his hand where it was. “Newt,” Thomas whispered, when he just had to know if they were thinking the same thing here. “Do you want to?”

Newt was nodding even though Thomas had been far from specific, definitely a good sign. “I promised you Tommy, said I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Now seems like the perfect time,” he said, pressing another kiss to Thomas’s cheek, moving down to kiss at his collarbone while he tugged at Thomas’s jacket. Thomas helped him along and he grabbed at the hem of his shirt and yanked it off as Newt shrugged out of his shirt. 

The healed skin of Newt’s toned chest and stomach made Thomas reach out and touch, running his hands over his friend’s body as Newt continued to kiss his neck and pull him in closer. 

Newt tugged at Thomas’s belt and whispered something that Thomas couldn’t quite hear over the rushing of his pulse in his ears with the frenzied beat of his heart.

He hadn’t been this nervous since the first time he and Newt had kissed - maybe because Newt was fully lucid now and there was no impending doom between them, and it made it all suddenly swim into harsh focus that this was real and they could do this, no holds barred.

He hadn’t realised how harsh his breaths were until Newt cupped a hand to his cheek and looked at him. “Hey, you ok?”

Thomas could only nod. He took Newt’s hand in his and kissed him again, trying to be less frantic than he was feeling, but Newt seemed to be fine with whatever Thomas was doing - he pushed Thomas down, definitely back to full strength as he insinuated himself between Thomas’s legs. Thomas wrapped his arms around Newt’s back, holding him close, groaning when their cocks bumped together. “You feel so good, Tommy.” 

Thomas could never get over Newt calling him that, or the feeling of their bodies pressed so tight against each other. Newt’s words, whispered heatedly near to Thomas’s ear just made Thomas clutch him harder, press his hips up eagerly. He really wanted to feel what Newt would do now that he was ok, plus with the experiences he remembered between them, what else they could do together. 

But he knew he had to calm a bit, he just had so much more energy with all that sleep, and now, in this small space with Newt again, knowing he still wanted this - Thomas took a deep breath and closed his eyes, just tried to relax into the feel of Newt’s warm hands smoothing over his chest and down his sides; the kisses he was placing all down his chest and stomach as his hands roamed. It wasn’t helping his pulse rate but he could handle it as long as Newt kept doing that. 

The next thing he knew Newt was sliding his pants and underwear down his hips and Thomas lifted up a little to help him. He opened his eyes then because even in the dim light he wanted to see what Newt could see. And he wanted to see Newt. He raised up on his elbow, reached out for Newt’s waistband. He wasn’t a novice at this, they’d had a fair bit of practice together, but not so much the naked practice. There had been plenty of rubbing through clothes, hastily opened pants and sticky handjobs in the darkness, desperate times when they both just really had to get off. Nakedness was different. 

Thomas couldn’t hold in a groan of pleasure when he slid his hand over Newt’s already solid cock, curling his fingers around in a light grip and pulling along the length of it. Newt pressed his forehead into Thomas’s shoulder and his hand went around Thomas’s cock which stopped Thomas’s movements for a second. Newt raised his head, eyes shining - Thomas was just in awe of the way he touched him. They kissed, open mouthed, gasping kisses as they each got into a rhythm with their hands. 

“Newt, will you…”  _ Need more touching. _ “More, please-” he gasped out.

Newt pushed up on one elbow. “More? Show me.”

Yeah, that was good, better than words - he could show Newt what he was thinking. He grabbed Newt’s free hand and shoved it between his thighs, dislodging their other hands, but Newt got what he meant - he slid his long fingers down, under Thomas’s balls, cupping as he went, the extra stimulation making Thomas jerk his hips. He was a wreck already but as Newt stroked his fingers over Thomas’s hole Thomas cried out. “Fuck, yeah, that’s it, yeah-” 

He pulled Newt’s face towards him and tried to kiss him, but he couldn’t coordinate his lips whilst concentrating on Newt’s fingers, the hand on his cock, the rock hard length in his own hand, and when he felt the tip of Newt’s finger slipping inside him, his whole body spasmed. His hips thrust hard into Newt’s hand as Newt took care of the kissing part, took care of everything - his finger rubbing and sliding deeper, his hand the perfect pressure on Thomas’s cock, wringing out his orgasm until Thomas was lying in a mess, unable to do more than blink up at Newt as he gazed down at him. 

Somewhere in the midst of coming so hard he’d maybe lost some more memories, he realised Newt had taken hold of himself where Thomas’s hand had gone slack around his cock, and Thomas looked down the length of his body to where Newt’s cum was pooled on his stomach. 

His head fell back and Newt pressed in close, kissing him tenderly as Thomas slung an arm around his back and held as tight as he could manage with his body still so shaky.

“Tommy,” Newt whispered across his lips, “don’t ever let me go.”

Thomas gave a slow smile. He had no intention of that. “Nope,” he managed. 

“You’re bloody amazing, y’know?”

Thomas tilted his head and looked at his friend, really looked - that wise but innocent face, eyes that were beneath a frown more often than not, but right now were wide and shining with Newt’s smile, just for Thomas. He put a hand to Newt’s cheek and just tried to take it all in. He’d gained so much since he was thrown into the maze - this boy in his arms, Thomas would do anything for him. 

After a while of just lying together he could almost think about words again, but his cheeks felt warm just from the thought of what he was going to say. His words were just whispers in the growing darkness. “Can you do that again…? With - your finger in me - oh,  _ fuck _ . Do you- d’you think you could get your dick in there?”

Newt swallowed hard and a big grin suddenly crossed his face. “Yeah, yeah with a bit of, uh, stretching - yeah we can do that. Might need something to ease the way a bit,” he added, and looking at Thomas’s stomach he trailed his fingers through the cum that was drying there. He winked at Thomas. “We could try now, if you like?”

Even though he’d just recently come Thomas’s cock twitched a little at the thought and all he could think about was his ass, and Newt inside him. He nodded. “Yeah, yes we should do that.”

Newt smiled and kissed him, dragging their bodies together, warm and safe. Thomas felt so safe in Newt’s arms. He’d always had his back, Thomas knew that from day one. But this thing between them now, he couldn’t imagine feeling for another person the way he felt about Newt. Newt kissed him hard, pushing his tongue between Thomas’s lips, pulling back, dragging his teeth across his lower lip. Thomas groaned into his mouth, he’d never be able to get enough of Newt’s mouth on his, he was certain. 

Newt pushed at his hip now so that Thomas rolled a bit, facing away but with his chest and head turned so they could still kiss, while Newt ran his hand up and down Thomas’s side, over his hip, clutching at his ass. Thomas put a hand to the pillow by his chest so he could press back against Newt’s hand, against his body, warm and solid behind him. Newt’s hands were all over him, massaging, pulling him close, teasing at his ass with slippery fingers. He dragged his hand across Thomas’s stomach again but it was clear that they were going to need something else. 

With another deep kiss Newt eased a finger inside, going deeper than before, curling his finger and making Thomas squirm, making his cock jump. He leaned back for another kiss and suddenly there were at least two fingers inside him, circling his hole and Thomas broke the kiss, gasping for air, most of his attention fixed there, as he shivered under the biting kisses Newt was leaving on his neck and shoulder. 

Newt just kept whispering his name, rubbing up against the back of his thigh with his clearly interested cock, and reaching around to stroke at Thomas’s whenever his hand roamed down his front. It felt so fucking good, he couldn’t get enough of it, pressing back onto Newt’s hand, trying to get more. 

He wanted to speak, to tell Newt just how much he meant to him, to use words like love and forever, words he could really only understand because of what he felt for Newt. He knew he shouldn’t do that, not right now, and if he tried to form words he didn’t know what would happen anyway because Newt was stretching his ass wider than Thomas would have thought possible and he apparently knew just how sensitive it would be to press right  _ there _ … to trail his fingers along  _ there. _ Thomas focused on breathing in and out for a while, letting the pleasure build and take him. He clutched at Newt’s hip, raised his arm and cradled the back of his head to get him to kiss him again. Newt met his lips and eased his leg higher, gaining better access, and Thomas felt his cock slide against his ass, slippery and wet - Newt had clearly used spit on himself and Thomas felt him ease out with his fingers, tease his hole with his dick. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Tommy,” Newt said, as he hesitated. 

“You won’t,” Thomas gasped out, so desperate now, so wanting. “Please,” he said, voice wrecked.

“Yeah, yeah ok,” Newt whispered desperately and he pushed in, just a little, just the tip it must be but  _ oh fuck _ could Thomas feel it, such a beautiful full feeling already, hot skin against his.

He forced his hips back without thinking it through and Newt gasped and gripped hard at Thomas’s thigh as he sank deeper. “Fuck,” Thomas groaned, but he didn’t feel pain exactly, a bit of a burn and the rough slide of Newt’s hard cock inside him.

“You should stay still,” Newt told him, and Thomas felt an immediate thrill at those words. He’d been thrust into his role as leader of the Gladers, he didn’t want to be that guy anymore. He wanted Newt to be in control - just as he had when Thomas had been acting like he owned the place back in the maze. 

“Yeah, keep me still - need your hands on me,” he got out in a harsh whisper.

Newt’s teeth grazed his shoulder, the hand on his hip pushing him further into the floor of the tent so Thomas had to hold up with both hands under his chest to avoid faceplanting. And Newt nudged his leg up further so Thomas was splayed out, forced into the ground with every slight move of his hips, Newt’s hand shifting to the centre of Thomas’s back, keeping him down as he pushed that little bit further inside. 

Thomas’s breath caught and he couldn’t move, could only take it now as Newt got into a careful rhythm, everything centred on his dick, catching and pulling and stretching at Thomas’s hole and he wanted this to go on and on... never stop.

Newt pressed in again, whispered words spilling out by Thomas’s ear which Thomas took in desperately, agreeing with every sentiment. When Newt pulled out this time he came nearly free and Thomas pushed back against him, desperate for more, to keep them locked together. He dragged his nails over Newt’s hip and Newt’s grip tightened on his thigh, his other hand grasping Thomas’s cock, groaning with effort as he shoved back in, forcing Thomas’s cock into his fist. 

Thomas couldn’t hold off much longer, he could hardly handle it - he had only felt fear and desperation since entering the maze, but  _ this _ \- it was almost too much, too many sensations all at once. He pressed his forehead into the back of his hand, gritting out words he didn’t even recognise through clenched teeth as Newt pounded him, held on until his friend’s body went completely still for a second, his hand tightening to the point of bruising on Thomas’s thigh and then Newt was gasping, smaller, jerking thrusts into Thomas, his warm cum filling him up, and he somehow managed to keep his hand firm and the pressure perfect on Thomas’s cock, and Thomas let go, mouth open in a silent cry as he came all over Newt’s knuckles.

Newt collapsed down on top of him, his hand smoothing away from the tight grip on Thomas’s leg and Thomas shifted to get more comfortable, it was the only movement he could manage though. He lay there, amazingly content with Newt’s weight on his back as their chests heaved in tandem.

“Oh man, that was fucking incredible,” he said before he fell asleep or just lost his words all together.

Newt tucked his arms tighter around him and Thomas reached around and gave him a backwards hug. “Do you want me to get off you?” Newt asked, voice muffled by Thomas’s shoulder. 

“Don’t even think it,” Thomas told him.

“Good that, because I don’t think I can move.”

Thomas smiled and attempted to turn over so that he could hold onto Newt properly, he managed a half roll and rearranged Newt’s limbs to his satisfaction.

He kissed Newt’s forehead, damp with sweat. Thomas was the same all over, he felt like he’d run the maze.    
“Thomas,” Newt said after a while.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens, don’t ever forget this - us. You were meant to save us. All of us. But you and me? We’re meant to be together.”

Thomas held him tighter, nodded into Newt’s hair, then kissed him again, cupping his cheek and taking his time over it, not able to reply but feeling those words deep in his heart. 

Everything was going to be ok now, and the klunk that wasn’t ok? They would deal with that like they always had - together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it :D I hope you've enjoyed. I'm always on [Tumblr](http://lovefushsia.tumblr.com/) and any prompts/requests for more Newtmas fic on there, or here in the comments, I would LOVE so much.
> 
> THANK YOU for all your wonderful comments and kudos because I had no idea what would happen after that first chapter!


End file.
